fox & obel makes me want to cook. when i'm there i imagine i'm in paris, on my way to my charming flat overlooking the rue de whatever, picking up just a few things for dinner with sophisticated friends. ah, the dream. it's the dream where i'm wearing a simple chic outfit, carrying a chic canvas bag (no proletariat plastic for me!), and i'll use public transportation in a very chic way, effortlessly balancing bread, cheese, flowers, boeuf and wine.
unfortunately, the reality is far different. i'm slogging through crusty gray snow, slushing through dirty water in the parking lot and the plastic bags are cutting off my circulation in my fingers while my glasses fog over in the cold. (all the while i'm bloated with my period and waddling so slowly across the street i almost get hit by a jeep.)
the plan was so easy: take the time before the dinner party to get a couple recipes under my belt so i could get the timing down and such. so prepared! so full of foresight! so deluded. i bought my smoked salmon, my heavy cream, the chives, the grapeseed oil - all to make a fluffy little amuse. how hard could it be?
almost 2 hours later, with a cuisinart, blender and beater going, grapeseed oil burning on the stove while chives burnt to a crisp, pureed smoked salmon looking about as appetizing as vomit, i decided that stores like fox & obel could kiss my ass. even now, i know i should taste the test batch i made last night but i'm afraid.
pureed salmon with cream sprinkled with chive oil? gag.
while near blizzard conditions battered chicago tuesday night, roomie and i (with a couple of girl friends) went to the Chicago Auto Show. (it was ladies night! $5!)
i have to admit that when you're on your period, there's nothing better than wandering desultorily around a convention center with your belly all poked out just being lulled by all the shiny paint jobs and the new car smells.
why do men want to take pictures with cars? i don't get it.
how cool that you can drive the cars in fake rivers and over faux hills?
the mini is really made for a tiny little hipster with no friends. i mean, really. we tried to fit four people in the new mini convertible and i almost dislocated a hip sliding into the driver's seat.
a car that costs over 150k is totally obscene and no one, except a tacky saudi prince, should ever own one.
the new volvo c30 is love love love love. it's not here, yet, and i don't drive but now i'm rethinking that lifestyle choice, thanks to the volvo.so whaddya know. cooking and car shows.
i contain multitudes.